


Fragile in Mind, Darkness at heart

by SavageStories



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2018-12-05 02:14:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11568213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SavageStories/pseuds/SavageStories
Summary: Harry potter was not a normal child. He was not worthy of love from his relatives. He was called a freak and had dinner withheld from him regularly. But what if this time Harry doesn't come out of the ordeal quite as sane as he used to be. Being met by Professor Snape after sending an owl back to Hogwarts requesting more information was one thing, but befriending the man's smarter than it seems coworker, with a strong affiliation to the dark, and deciding that he would quite like to join as well - not to mention the 'sudden' death of his Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon in a gas explosion - well, let's just say that his life is in for a very sudden start. Hogwarts won't know what hit it when Harry Potter gets there, as well as all the attacks that have been happening over the summer after his first year courtesy of a resurrected dark lord and his new and very powerful ally that has made a sudden appearance. Yes, Harry's life is off for quite the start. ..





	1. Prologue

11:59 pm. 59...58...57...56...55...

A countdown to midnight has always been associated with something bad, but for just this once, this is not the case. For you see, tonight is young Hadrian's birthday, and. Whilst he might have all day to (inwardly) celebrate it, Harry always stays up until midnight, as is tradition.

Although staying up until Midnight might not be the best idea in the world - especially since Harry must get up at six in the morning to do his chores - it's still not going to stop Harry from doing it anyway. Although Hadrian despairs having to wake up at six am (see: not a morning person), it is a much better compromise than the alternative. When he was young, he had a choice - to either scare his relatives - therefore risking beatings - hoping for complete control over them, or, he could play the good guy - meaning taking shit talk from his relatives and diverting any idea of hitting him that might pop into their heads - so of course, Harry chose to hide.

Hiding has always been easy for Harry, and seeing as he has always felt more mature about things than kids his age, he knew it was normally the better option in his situation. There has always been a part of Harry - almost like a tugging on his very soul - that urges him to be more mature, to learn and to hide. But amongst all of that, there has always been a distant longing for revenge, and whilst that revenge may have twisted Harry's perceptions of right and wrong, it has always grounded him - given him a hope of getting his own revenge.

For now, though, as the clock strikes twelve and a very tired Harry wishes himself a 'Happy Birthday', as it's finally time for Harry to get some sleep...


	2. The Letter

"Urgh..." Harry slowly awakes from his slumber and chances a look at his alarm clock - six a.m. - "Great, just great." Since Harry was five, he'd always had to cook for the Dursley's - but seeing as they refused to teach him how, he'd asked them to take him to the library so that he could learn how to cook, and they did - only, they left him there, and told him that he could only come back - if he even survived, that is - when he learned how to cook a three-course meal at the very least.

For that week, away from the Dursley's Harry lived in the library - reading anything and everything about cooking that he could get his hands on: cookbooks, manuals, instruction guides, etc... He learned how to do as much as possible in cooking - of course, he'd need to practice it to get it right, but at least he knew enough to be allowed to stay at the Dursley's house. They looked so disappointed when he came back, he almost laughed at their faces before remembering his 'place'.

After that, Harry regularly started asking to go to the library, and seeing as it got him away from the Dursley's for mass amounts of time, they were just as happy to see him go. He was always trying his best to learn as much as he could every time he was left at the library, including intermediate mathematics, English, psychology, sociology, science and more, he even started trying to learn Russian. This continued for two years before - IT - happened. Due to living in his cupboard, any and all of Harry's accidental magic outbursts went unseen. Until one day, when Dudley and his friends were chasing Harry when he'd returned from a trip to the library, when Harry tripped over - causing Dudley and his 'gang' to catch up to him. It wasn't long before Harry was surrounded, trapped, and with no way out. They were getting closer - the prey was caught and the predators were stalking - Harry was screwed.

Harry lay curled up on the ground, arms protecting his head, awaiting another 'routine beating'. Before this point, Harry always took the beating and ran off when it was over, but that day - Harry's seventh birthday - was the day the glass cracked. The boys were still mocking him, taunting him, and yet, he wasn't scared - NO - he was angry. And just like that, the voices stopped taunting, mocking, and jeering - the fists stopped pummelling him and the legs stopped kicking and stamping on him. In fact - they started screaming - and they were screaming because Harry was wishing with all him might that they were the ones in pain, that they felt everything he felt and more, Harry wished and willed with every fibre of his being that they felt agony in every single part of their bodies - and they did! That was the first - and certainly not the last time that Harry had inflicted pain on someone strong enough to feel as though they were being pierced by thousands of sharp, tiny knives.

That was four years ago. Throughout those years the Dursley's have taken to starving Harry as much as possible without outright killing him. Since the first incident with Harry's magic, Dudley had taken to getting his friends to beat Harry up whenever they see him. As for Harry, well, Harry started planning. After that day, Harry started testing his 'powers' to see what he could do, and he found out - anything! He dedicated his time locked in the cupboard under the stairs to both constant learning of magic and knowledge. He learnt how to teleport when he was eight, and ever since then he's been teleporting to the library whenever he can - either in the day when all the Dursley's were out, or during night when they're all asleep. So for the last 4 years he's been learning and fine tuning his 'powers', and for the last 6 (with one year missed before he could teleport) he has been studying anything and everything.

As for now, well, now, Harry needs to get started on cooking English Breakfast for the Dursley's - something that they insist upon every day. He would probably be a little better off making it if he actually got to eat any of it himself, but of course the Dursley's wouldn't want him to eat - thankfully though, Harry - magic as he was - simply conjured himself food whenever he was hungry - so instead of being unhealthy and sickly looking as he's sure he would be if he only ate the little he was allowed, he was healthy. He had a strong stamina - from running from Dudley's gang - and has fast reflexes - from ducking out of the way of any object that either Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon throw at him. Thankfully they're too scared of his freakishness affecting them to actually touch him - but they do encourage Dudley to get his gang to best Harry up.

Harry knows he has the power to get rid of them, and painfully too - but he also knows he would either be a suspect, or sent to an orphanage if he killed them - so for now, he's creating a cover - the meek, skinny boy with no motive - meaning he cannot fight with the Dursley's. Harry is all up for controlling their minds, but he needs them to be believable and he's not sure if he can expand that much power long term - so he merely acts to them as if he has no knowledge of his powers whatsoever. Little did he know that just as he was serving breakfast that day, one letter could bring all those plans crumbling down...

"Go and get the post boy," snarled Uncle Vernon, shoving down another load of bacon down his throat. At the rate he's going I won't be surprised if a heart attack beats me from getting to him first. Ah well, it'd still be fun to watch, and I could probably find a way to use my magic to prolong his suffering. I'll have to start testing - ahem - researching that.

"Yes Uncle Vernon, of course Uncle Vernon." I replied. Of course I have to go and get the mail - just as I have to stand waiting on their table, silent unless spoken to and listening to their demands. Still, I head to the front door and pick up the letters - I'm not supposed to look through them but what do I care, they won't know unless they see me doing it. I was just about to walk past my cupboard when I saw it - a letter, with what must be my name on it. I never learnt it, as they had named me 'freak boy'. All I knew was my parent's last names and that was only due to accidentally hearing Uncle Vernon in one of his drunken rants, without thinking I grab the letter and push it through the slot in the door of my cupboard that Uncle Vernon uses to taunt me through when I'm being punished. At least I know my name now - Harry - quite ordinary, but much, much better than freak boy at any rate. Maybe it was short for something, Harrison, Harold, or maybe even Hadrian perhaps. He smiled slightly to himself before heading out to the kitchen, face back into a blank mask and banishing thoughts of his name so he didn't accidentally let his happiness slip. Though there really wasn't much chance for that once he had gotten near the kitchen, his Uncle started yelling - apparently he was dallying for too long, he sighed, Oh Well...

"Get in here boy! What on Earth is taking so long?" Uncle Vernon even sounded like he was fat. How is that possible? Whatever.

"Coming Uncle Vernon." God, why is my voice so high pitched? I'm a boy for god's sake, not a baby! I Scurry into the kitchen/dining room and place the letters on the table in front of Uncle Vernon, and of Course, he checks to see if my 'anti-freakishness gloves' are on - of course they are - I'm not stupid. After the last punishment of no food for two weeks, I'd learnt to always put my gloves on. He nods his head as if solidifying fact and reaches out to start opening the letters. I go back to standing in wait - deciding to continue mentally cutting pieces off of Uncle Vernon bit by bit, relishing in his screams whilst Aunt Petunia and Cousin Dudley are forced to watch and wait their turn - while keeping an ear out for any of their 'requests'.

As it was, they finished breakfast 10 minutes later, so Harry was sent away with the plates to get started on his chores. So, for the rest of the day, Harry went around cleaning - his Aunt didn't have anywhere to be so she didn't leave the house - meaning he couldn't do it with magic like he normally does. He cleaned the house, mowed the lawn, pulled the non- existent weeds, washed Aunt Petunias car and tidied his Cousins and Aunt and Uncles rooms. The only time Aunt Petunia spoke to him was to tell him what to make her for dinner.

By eight o'clock Harry was finished with his chores and the family was sitting down to a roast dinner with Harry sent back to his cupboard sans food - again. As Harry opened his cupboard door, he saw the letter, and curiosity instantly bloomed - in his cupboard, his facade was gone, and the real Harry potter shows through (or regem in tenebris - king of the darkness in Latin as he likes to be known and has always been fascinated with Latin).

The letter feels strange - thicker than paper -with green swirly handwriting and an address. Harry turns it over and opens the letter - breaking through the wax seal on the back. The letter was very to the point, without much detail or extra information or anything. Harry Potter - the Wizard. I can work with that.

It's not like Harry was shocked or anything, it sure as hell explains his powers. He was annoyed that he had to live a 'normal' life when he could have been in the Wizarding World, but he supposes they might have thought he would like his relatives - but why was a school the first to contact him -was it just an education in magic and then that's it? Where do the Wizards/Witches go after school? Are there magical jobs? All these questions and more were running through Harry's head when he realised - " How am I supposed to get an Owl? Trap it? Then what? Train it to send letters, fat chance."

The next morning saw Harry awake, acceptance letter written, but riddled with questions like: How will pay? How do I get there? and the like. Practical questions. Now the matter simply was - how to sent the letter? This was solved when, once Harry walked outside to start washing Uncle Vernon's car (it was a Saturday), an Owl swooped down and landed on his shoulder. Harry was so startled that he dropped the sponge back into it's bucket (they don't trust him with the hosepipe for some reason...). An Owl. That's it - of course they sent it with an Owl, so they expect their Owl back with the acceptance letter! Harry carefully lifted his arm and watched as the Owl flew onto it, and carefully placed the Owl onto a low down tree branch. " Just wait right here and i'll get the letter, alright?" The Owl just hooted . Carefully, without making a sound, Harry crept into his cupboard. He grabbed the letter - and a piece of string while he was at it, and hurried back outside to the Owl. He quickly tied the letter onto the Owls leg and stood back as the Owl started to take flight.

Three days went by before Harry started doubting his choice. He knew his plans were at least put on hold - he needed to know if wizards could trace magic, if they could find out what happened, he needed to know! It was the day after that when there was a knock at the door - Aunt Petunia was in the living room, listening to her gossip shows, so I was told to get the door. When I look out the door I can see a tall, lanky man with a sallow face wearing a black - is that a dress!? Or maybe a long coat? - with greasy black hair and a subtle sneer adorning his face, raising his eyebrow after I just stand there looking at him - right, I'm supposed to talk first to people at the door.

"Hello" Great, It sounds more like a question, gurgh, why do I have to be on edge all the time?!

"Mr Potter?" He asks, even though it seems that he is perfectly aware of exactly who he is talking to.

"Yes, that's me Sir. Who are you, if I may inquire?" I swear i'm trying to be polite, I really am, but right now the only thing I can think is that only one of those Wizard people would know my name, where I lived and where those strange looking clothes. Seriously, is that a dress or not, I can't tell!

"I am professor Severus Snape of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I heard that you had many, many questions. I have been sent here to answer any and all questions you may have." He seemed to be practically forcing himself to stay polite -

his face is actually Twitching - what the hell did I do? Does he just not like kids or something? Probably. I actually find it kinda funny but I know better than to laugh.

"Okay, but i'll have to ask Aunt Petunia if you may be allowed in first." I turn away to go into the living room and talk to Aunt Petunia but her screeching beats me to it.

"Boy! Well go on then, who's at the door? Let them in you little Freak!" Jeez, how much has she had to drink. She never usually shouts at me in front of visitors. Ah well, not much longer now - I can almost imagine her face when I cook for her the last time, serving her her son and husbands heart on a platter and forcing her to eat them...

"Never mind," I sighed. I really don't care if she's shouting at me, i'm more annoyed that it's in front of my - hopefully - new professor. I wonder what he teaches?

"Please come in, Sir." I led him into the living room to see Aunt Petunia, but i gotta say, she didn't look too happy to see him at any rate. I also kinda get that the feeling is mutual if the look on professors face is anything to go by, he's practically snarling and smirking at the same time. How is that possible? Oh well, at least this looks like it'll be fun.

"S-S-Severus" OK, so she does know him, good to know. Totally gonna be in my line of questioning if it doesn't get answered now.

"Petunia." He drawled. Actually drawled, like some rich, posh snob. Oh My god, this is just priceless. I am not missing this for the world.

"W-What are you doing here?!"

"Well that's obvious isn't it?" I could Kiss him right now with how uncomfortable he's making Aunt Petunia. Her face is just priceless!

"WHAT! NO! NO! He is not going THERE! I have spent years trying to make him normal. I will not have you and your lot ruining it!" She looked frantic by now. It was amusing really - except for the part where she blatantly admitted to knowing about magic, as if I were not in the room.

"Now, Now Petunia, you know the boy's coming whether you like it or not. Don't make a fuss. This visit is merely a formality to let ask any questions he has seeing as he seems to know NOTHING! Now why is that?" This - was amazing. I think it's time for me to jump in with my line of questioning now. Professor Snape keeps eyeing me, waiting for a reaction other than a docile but angry face.

"You KNEW?! You knew about my powers?! My Magic?!"

" Of course I knew. How could I not know? With my sister being what she was. A Freak!" The correct response to this to not make her suspicious of my intent to murder her would be...Let me think...Anger, and...Being upset, Go.

"My Mother was a Witch!?" Good, see. Stick to simple questions - control the full extent of your emotions, don't let your powers out of control and you'll be fine.

"Yes Potter, and a very powerful one at that." Did Professor Snape know my Mum? Or maybe he just heard about her? I really don't know.

"Why? Why didn't you tell me? Was any of it true? Their names, their jobs, how they - how they died?" I really hope I catch her out on this.

I have needed a proper reason all evening to blow up with a plausible excuse. I never knew my parents so I can't really say I feel sad about their deaths, especially since I've been told horrible things about them all my life, I think I just want to actually know what happened more than any actual desire to get to know what they were like. This could also prove as a useful way to open up the cracks and get Aunt Petunia to start leaking information.

"Of course they didn't die in a car accident! My freak of a sister couldn't possibly manage something so mundane as to die normally!

No, she and her freak of a husband had to go and get themselves blown up!" Well, I suppose that sounds less pathetic than a car crash. Maybe if I get her worked up enough she'll start spilling things that she will end up regretting later on. It's hard enough as it is with the teacher present, when keeping his calm is a top priority, and all he wants to do is carve every remark, every lie, every sin and every horrible deed she's done into her flesh - a sign to all those who see her cold, dead corpse that she was the freak, with her abnormal normality and her hatred for anything not 'perfect' or 'normal', as well as her obsessive need to dismiss anything bad that Cousin Dudley had ever done as if it did not exist. Oh how he would love to wrench the screams from her throat, forcing tears past her hate-filled eyes as I peel off her skin bit by bit with naught more than a blunt knife. Oh the things he could do...

Harry stood there silently glaring at his Aunt Petunia, who quickly paled as she saw the malice and glee in Harry's eyes, usually masked by a blank look, rise to the surface and threaten to suffocate her with how intensely they were pinning her down, a look of pure hatred boiling and bubbling to the surface and she realised that there was more to her nephew than she previously thought and promised herself to stay out of his way from now on and concentrate on her actual family whilst ignoring him. She knew he was restraining himself, with Lily's temper being as it was, Petunia was very surprised that he hadn't lashed out already.

As this was happening Severus was just standing back, looking amused at how pale Petunia had gotten once she had become locked into a staring contest with Potter. He could see the boy was neglected and at the very least verbally abused, so he decided to avoid being as mean as he was planning. It was obvious the boy was neither the complete copy of either of his parents, and was more likely to have a bit of both of them in him, leading Severus to wonder at just what exactly Harry Potter was truly like, so he decided to sit back and merely observe for now.

After a while, Harry snapped out of his 'daze' and appeared to immediately calm down and act as if everything was perfectly normal. A few seconds later and Harry had decided to keep his fake persona into Hogwarts, as he was unsure as to what the world would think of 'regem in tenebris' and wanted to make sure he could keep low down and unsuspected if he decides to do anything...less than good. So Harry did what he thought would best suit his chosen personality - he got upset and defensive and angry.

"Why did you lie to me?! I knew you never cared about me so why did you lie about how my parents died? Why would you care if I ran off and joined a family who would take me in and raise me in a Wizarding environment where I would have been accepted and cared for? Why keep me when you could have gotten rid of me years ago?" And there it is, that silent contemplation in Aunt Petunias eye, her wondering just why on earth she had chosen to keep me when she could have pawned me off onto some wizarding family claiming i'm one of 'their lot.'

"I...I don't know. I guess I never really would have known how to get into contact with them, and Vernon said that we could try to fix you, to make you normal, and-and i might have wanted a bit of payback to Lily by being the one who actually raised her child..." she trailed off, uncertainly, wondering if those might be her last words.

To say Severus was shocked was a true assumption, yes he'd always known that Petunia was a spiteful woman but he never believed that she would take out her hatred for her sister on a small child just because of who his mother is-was. In spite of what he was trying to tell himself, Severus felt some of his resolve to be spiteful to the child to remind him that he isn't just going to get an easy life riding on his fame weakening. In fact, he'd pretty much decided to be indifferent and treat Harry much the same as one of the few students he neither liked nor disliked (even he knew it was hard for him to actually like or - god forbid - be Nice to anybody), so indifference it was. That didn't stop him from giving out detentions when required though...

While Severus was planning on how to act towards the boy and Petunia was wondering if she was taking her last breaths, Harry was trying to restrain his magic from forcibly restraining his Aunt and tearing her to shreds from the inside out. All those years of neglect, of insults and accusations, being locked outside the house until he'd earned himself a bed to sleep in - were because of some petty left over feelings towards his cold, dead - lifeless - mother. What kind of pathetic person does that?

Finally, Harry decided it was time to get them back on track to the situation at hand. "So, you were saying that you were sent here to tell me what I need to know. Firstly, how exactly am I supposed to pay for Hogwarts, or is there some sort of scholarship programme or what?..."


	3. Diagon Alley

Harry scrunched up his nose in distaste at the building standing in front of him. " Why are you taking me to a brothel?"He asked with childlike curiosity lacing his voice. Harry knew it wasn't really, but he couldn't help watching with gleeful fascination as the usually cool, calm and collected professor lost his stride and almost tripped over his - what Harry had found out were - robes, and started sputtering denials as to where he was taking him. Harry really couldn't help it, he burst into peals of laughter, leading the Professor to send a glare his way, but Harry wasn't bothered as he could see the barely hidden amusement on his Professors face.

"For your information Potter, this is the muggle entrance to The Leaky Cauldron, Not a brothel. Now come on, you have many things to buy and I have to visit Gringotts." Harry could see the Professor shifting back into his usual self, and wondered whether it was a mask as much as his own, or just a slight personality change to seem more intimidating, either way, Harry felt a bit of smug satisfaction nestle itself in his chest as he realised that he had managed - if only for a few brief moments - to break that mask.

As they entered the pub, all Harry could think of was that it needed a really good clean and some better lighting. Harry wasn't left much time to look around before having to scurry after Professor Snape who seemed to be heading for a man in a purple turban. "Ah, Professor Quirrel! I need a word. If you would come with me into Diagon Alley?" For anyone listening it was easy to tell that this was not a request, and Professor Quirrel seemed to realise that too as he merely stepped into stride with Professor Snape, but not before sending a glance Harry's way. It seemed that Professor Quirrel recognised him if the quick flick of his eyes up to his forehead was any indication, but instead of making a scene, he merely carried on walking.

Once Harry and both Professors were standing by the brick wall outside the back of the pub, Professor Snape simply took out his wand and started tapping a sequence on the bricks, not even sparing a glance at Harry to see if he was looking, but Harry wasn't paying much attention either, as he had decided to do something he hadn't done in years, since the last time he did it, he got bored. No one knew this, but Harry was actually an empath, so if he chooses to, he can 'unlock' his abilities from his magical core and sense the emotions from those around him. This time though, when Harry decided to let out his abilities, it wasn't disdain, hatred or fear that he felt. From Professor Snape he felt agitation and frustration focusing themselves towards the other Professor, whilst from Professor Quirrel, Harry got two sets of emotions, each belonging to someone different. The main feeling was of curiosity and anger, whilst the second set, which seemed suppressed as it was hard for Harry to register them were of dull resignation and fear.

Harry was broken out of his questioning haze as the brick walls in front of him started shifting apart to make a doorway. Impressive camouflage. Now, as Harry looked in front of himself he could see an unnaturally lit street, full of shops selling a large array of items that you would not normally see, such as flying broomsticks, cauldrons, potions ingredients which looked both fascinating and disgusting at the same time, and other nick knacks. Harry was broken out of his reverie when Professor Snape started talking.

"Quirrel I have a job to do for Headmaster Dumbledore, would you mind making yourself useful by taking to get his supplies and answering any More questions he has? No objections? Great! Gringotts first, Harry follow on." Wow, OK, so he's just totally undermining another Professor right in front of me, It's not very hard to see what he thinks of him then. As for me, I like to reserve judgement until I have gotten to personally know someone, which means taking other's opinions into account without letting it bias my own opinions, so I will be reserving judgement on Professor Quirrel until I've gotten to know him a bit better. For now I simply respond with a "Yes, Sir" and follow along.

Once we've gotten into the Brobdingnagian white building declaring itself as 'Gringotts', Professor Snape departs with a flourish of billowing robes, leaving me with Professor Quirrell. He looks awkward, yet contemplative, what's up with that? I might as well ask him something to break the ice. "So, Professor Quirrell, what subject do you and Professor Snape teach?" He must have been thinking or something because he jumped as soon as I started talking. " O-Oh, w-w-well Professor S-Snape teaches P-Potions and I teach D-D-Defence Ag-gainst the D-Dark arts." That stutter is fake, it could easily convince most people but with my empath abilities out it's easy to tell. What's he playing at? "Why are you pretending to stutter professor?" I might as well ask, i'm pretending to play nice, not dumb. It's obvious that I startled the professor if the wide eyes and slightly agape mouth are anything to go by.

"Caught onto that did you?" He asks with a chuckle."I use it as a way to tell when students are actually interested in learning in my class, as those who want to learn will come to me after class and ask me for help, at which point I drop the stutter and commend them on asking for help. I'm only interested in teaching those who want to learn, will you be one of those?" Ah, I see what he did, though it seems that isn't the full story, but it's probably going to be the most i'll get out of him. For now at least.

"Of course Professor. It would be kind of stupid to find out about a whole new world and not try to learn as much as possible when given the opportunity." He seems surprised by what I said, why would that be?

"You knew nothing? What foolish person decided to let you live with muggles but tell you nothing of your world? How much has Severus told you?" Wait, he sounds like it's my rite of passage to know these things. Hugh, well I guess that might have to do with the fame thing.

"He told me about my so called 'fame' for something I don't remember, that my parents left me a trust vault to fund my schooling, and that I should study potions or pay the price, i'm still not sure if he was serious about that." I'm not actually kidding, he barely told me anything.

"That's it?! You are the heir to the most Noble and Ancient house of Potter which has been all pure blood except for you and That is all he told you?! I will have a lot of explaining to do today, won't I? Come on, let's get a goblin blood test done for you, It'll tell you everything you own, are entitled to and a rundown of your magical abilities, as well as detailing any potions/spells/etc you may be under." Wow, that actually sounds pretty cool. I wonder what it'll say.

"Okay, yeah. That actually sounds kind of useful." I go along with him up to a counter where a goblin sits, writing out something - i'm Way too small to see over the counter. When we just stand there I look up to Professor Quirrel and see him waiting patiently for the Goblin to finish, I guess it must be a thing so I decide to wait like I do on the table, silently and without moving.

About two minutes later the Goblin puts the feather down - I guess it's a quill - and addresses Professor Quirrel. "And what may I do for you today, Sir?" His, Her, I don't know. It's voice sounds gravelly yet also like nails on a chalkboard, either way, it's not easy to listen to without trying not to wince.

"We would like a full scale blood test done on here." Oh I am so grateful right now for this Professor keeping his voice down when saying my name. I couldn't take it if he decided to watch with some sort of malevolent glee as I get swarmed and drowned in a crowd of fans. Though he probably did so more out of self preservation than anything else, likely not wanting to get accidentally swarmed himself.

"Of course Sir, if you'll follow me to one of the back rooms we can get the required equipment sorted out."

"Of course we will, come along Harry."

"Coming!"

Once were settled into two chairs behind a desk in one of the back rooms, the Goblin pulls out some parchment, a dish of some white liquid and a very sharp looking knife. I'm pretty sure I can guess what I need to do.

"Now if you'll just cut one of your fingers slightly and place seven drops of blood into the dish in front of you." The Goblin says, whilst handing over the knife. I'm used to beatings from Dudley's gang so I don't even flinch when I cut myself, which makes Professor Quirrel send a weary and concerned look my way - which I choose to ignore, and proceed to place seven drops of blood into the dish as required and then sit back into the chair to watch as the goblin upends the solution onto the parchment which seems to almost suck the liquid up. It's not long before the words start forming:

Name:

Lord Hadrian James Evans-Potter-Black-Griffindor-Peverell-Slytherin (By right of conquest)

Status:

Pure blood

Parents:

Maternal - Lily Evans-Potter (Pure blood)

Paternal - James Potter (Pure blood)

Magic - Sirius Black (Pure blood)

Accounts:

Evans family vault

Potter family vault

Black family vault

Trust vault

Gryffindor family vault

Peverell family vault

Slytherin family vault

Estates:

Potter Manor

Grimmauld Place

Godrics Hollow

Evans castle

Hogwarts

Slytherin manor

Gryffindor manor

Peverell Castle

Black manor

Magics:

Family Magics

Parsel

Wandless/Wordless Magic

Shadow Master

Elemental - Air - Water - Earth - Fire - Light - Dark

All Speak

Multiform

Soul mark

Master Of Death - Lineage

Inheritance

Spells/Potions/Compulsions/Blocks:

(Broken) Compulsion to trust: Albus Dumbledore, Molly Weasley, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger (Cast by Albus Dumbledore)

(Broken) Compulsion to hate: Slytherins, Tom Riddle aka Lord Voldemort, Severus Snape (Cast by Albus Dumbledore)

(Broken) Compulsion to avoid asking for help and studying (Cast by Albus Dumbledore)

Magic Suppressor (Cast by Albus Dumbledore)

(Broken) Submissive nature potion (Administered by Albus Dumbledore)

(Broken) Personality-write spell (Cast by Albus Dumbledore)

Minor change of Appearance Potion (Administered by Albus Dumbledore)

"My god. if you come right this way we can get all magical influence spells, potions and blocks off you right now." The goblin seems horrified, and Professor Quirrel doesn't look much better either, if the look on his face is anything to go by.

"If this Dumbledore guy hates me so much then why didn't he block each of my Magics? I mean, wouldn't it have been better for him to block them instead of chancing me accidentally finding out about them when using magic?" Professor Quirrel and the Goblin both look surprised at my line of questioning. What?! It's not as if I'm unintelligent or anything. Quite the opposite actually.

"That is because your powers will only start to develop enough to be tested at the age of 11, the first stage of magical maturity and the reason that there are no Wizarding primary schools - because it would be too dangerous for low power Wizards and Witches to practice on an unstable core, whereas the more high power Wizards and Witches would be able to have some level of practice without draining their cores." Professor Quirrel replied, looking slightly smug and sounding as though he had just recited that word for word from a book he has previously read.

"Well that's good to know, I guess I'll just have to be careful not to let him get close enough to 'borrow' some of my blood and find out my powers for himself. And, I mean, what kind of 'All powerful Wizard' can't cast a spell strong enough to withstand a seven year old's magic?"

"Why Seven?" Professor Quirrel questions.

"Because that's the first time my magic flared up enough for me to notice that I was the one doing it, and I've always acted differently to how I did before that day." Hadrian responded, with a slightly darker undertone nearing the end of the sentence.

Both Professor Quirrel and the Goblin looked slightly curious as to why Hadrian said 'that day' like it was a curse, but neither commented and so the trio proceeded into the ritual chamber where upon Hadrian was placed inside to keep any magical backlash from harming others when his suppressed magic was released.

The ritual was started and lasted approximately half an hour, consisting of the Goblin (Ragnarok, as Hadrian later found out) chanting in a language Hadrian thought he shouldn't understand - due to the curious looks Professor Quirrel kept shooting the Goblin, as though unknowing as to what exactly the goblin was chanting, but refraining himself from actually asking - but did thanks to the Allspeak, and making the runes covering the chamber glow a bright white light, until finally the magic died down and Ragnarok stopped chanting.

The change Hadrian felt was exhilarating! Unlike before where he had to consciously use his magic to get to feel it pressed up to his fingertips, now he could feel his entire body enveloped in the warm heady rush of power that his magic was giving off. This was also when he realised that his magic wasn't just centred in one place in his body deep down that he had to reach for - No - now that his magic was set free from Its confines he could feel it flowing through his very veins, giving off rhythmic steady beats of power that attuned to the very beating of his heart. Not only that but his appearance had also changed, and whilst it may have been minor in difference for each item, all together left a rather stunning effect. Before now Hadrian's eyes were merely emerald green, but now one glowed with the powerful electric green glow of the killing curse whereas his right eye glowed a similar way but tinted red instead of green, his cheekbones had inched higher upon his face, changing it from looking sunken to aristocratic. His eyesight had been fixed due to the heady flow of magic, leaving his eyes with a more noticeable coldness in his gaze, as well as the blatant intelligence that shined within them. Harry grew taller, a total of six inches, from 4"5' to 5"1', a respectable height for an eleven year old who would only continue to grow in the years to come. Ended all with a black aura settling over him, tinted with green and red at the outside, invisible to the eyes of those he did not wish to see it - signifying his power and title as the Master of Death. All in all ending to make a very impressive sight.

The final changes to Hadrian were simple, a small infinity sign laid under Hadrian's right eye, signifying him to be an elemental, the insignia of the Deathly Hallows appearing on his right wrist, whilst a small black design settled itself onto Hadrian's right hand - his soul mark.

If Tom Riddle were a lesser man he would have gaped, he'd recognise that soul mark anywhere, it was, after all on his own hand for all the years before he'd lost his body. He'd unconsciously glamoured it as a child but he'd always known it were there, and if the fading mark on Hadrian's hand was anything to go by he was doing the same too.

Soul marks are rare after all and anyone who has one is gifted with the ability to hide it, helping prevent circumstances where someone copies their soul mark in order to trick them or take something from them. A problem with soul mates was that too long without them and you'd go insane, and Tom knew this from personal experience, not from lack of trying though.

After all of this Tom stood there, near gaping, thinking only one thing - I've found my equal, my soulmate...and I tried to kill him.


	4. Shopping Frenzy

After the blocks were taken care of and he'd picked up a lot of money from one of his vaults, 'Professor Quirrel' decided to take Hadrian to get his new robes done first, as they would have to wait while the robes were made before being able to collect them.

Hadrian looked up at the name of the shop Professor Quirrel and himself were approaching - Madame Malkins - however, just before entering the shop Professor Quirrel stopped him, leaned down and said " May I glamour your scar? I do not wish to cause a hold up and I fear any customers hearing such will come forth and stall us."

Harry decided that he wanted to get Quirrel's opinion on Harry's 'story', as he wanted to see how different people would explain it to him, if given the chance to be the first to influence me. They would not know, however, that I am not so susceptible as to believe what the first person says to me to be completely correct and unbiased. So he decided to act oblivious, but add a hint of truth to his reasoning to throw off any attempts to tell if he was lying. "Why would I need to hide my scar, sir? It's my favourite feature! The only other period I like about me is my eyes - they remind me of a dream I have a lot, where there's a flash of green light and someone laughing."

Professor Quirrel looked genuinely confused for a second, before looking irritated and slightly angry. "You mean you don't know? Well with all those blocks on you i'd bet he didn't let you know anything! When did you learn of the Wizarding world Harry?" Tom quietly cursed his slip up with Harry's name, but he couldn't help it. He just found his soulmate and even if he won't be telling Harry that until he's got his body back calling his soulmate by anything other than his name just sounds and even to an extent feels intrinsically wrong to him, except perhaps a nickname? He wondered if Harry would reject him after learning who he truly is. He couldn't exactly bring himself to regret murdering Harry's parents, but maybe, given time, he could be forgiven anyhow? In all actuality the main reason he even killed her was because of her pleading, it was annoying. Well, not only that, it was also that he had felt a slight decrease of the haze in his mind - the insanity oh so slowly retreating - that he had been shocked, but because of how long he'd been insane, the haze would take much longer to retreat altogether, as well as spending that time with his soulmate, otherwise the haze would not only have stopped growing, but also stopped retreating. All of this led up to him not actually connecting the dots and realising that Harry was his soulmate, meaning that he had still - foolishly - attempted to murder the boy. Thank Salazar that soulmates couldn't kill one another, or he would have gone to the extreme level of insanity, and that is something no one wants to witness.

Tom knows most people would believe him incapable of feeling love or even genuine like of anyone. But the fact of the matter is that, once he knew what his mark - his soul mark - meant, he decided that he would allow himself to love that person. He had researched soul marks for months and had found out that a soulmate will always have thee minimal ability to match their soulmate's power or even be even more powerful that their soulmate. This is one of the reasons that Tom had decided he would allow himself to love his soulmate - he wouldn't have to risk losing them or have them need constant protection, as they would be his equal (or more) in every way - as he had decided, after he found out what happened to his mother, he would only love those who could protect themselves, he wouldn't risk losing someone and having to suffer through it, not again. He had actually always dreamed of his soulmate, ruling the Empire, their Empire, by his side, his equal in all ways. The fact that he was immortal led his plans to be slow going - infiltrate the ministry from within, slowly and orderly until he just naturally gets to the top, gifted the British wizarding world on a silver platter - but due to his insanity, his plans had been derailed. Hearing Harry start to answer his question, he immediately refocused his attention to the boy at hand.

"Actually I only just learned of it today, but I've known of and have practised Magic since I was seven years old." Harry didn't actually mean to let the latter part slip, but he felt so comfortable, so at ease talking to Professor Quirrel that he started to feel a tad unnerved, but he continued with his line of questioning, planning to get Professor Quirrel's viewpoint on his 'story', he was also curious as to what 'glamour' meant. "So what was it that I don't know? I'm guessing it has something to do with my scar, since you said you wanted to 'glamour' it."

"Yes, it has to do with your scar, and how you got it." It was at this point that Tom realised that Harry had actually been lying to him, and due to him getting distracted, he had actually believed that Harry didn't know his story, but it looked - and sounded - like the former part was actually true, as after saying it Harry looked as though he regretted relinquishing that detail. It proves just how little Tom was paying attention if someone actually managed to successfully lie to an accomplished legilimens like himself - however temporarily.

"What would my scar matter for? I got it in the car crash that killed my parents, apparently Dad was driving drunk, and had just picked my mother up off the sidewalk from her so called 'job' when he pulled into a three way road without looking - as he was too busy paying 'attention' to my mother to focus his little bit of un-inebriated mind on driving - and got hit on the right hand side full force by a van, killing both himself and mother instantly, who was practically in his lap at that point. I'm not entirely sure how Aunt Petunia knew that last part unless it was a regular occurrence."

Tom was startled as to how robotically Harry had said everything apart from the very latter phrase, as though it was drilled into him for an extended period of time, although he could sense an extra tinge of ice in Harry's voice when he mentioned his parents, as though he held deep loathing or even hate towards them. Now that was interesting, a sense of abandonment perhaps? Or maybe he had been compared to them one too many times to feel naught more than resentment upon the mere mention of his parents? He didn't know but made sure to remember to ask at some point in the future, interested in the reasoning behind the hate.

Hating how pathetically he tried not to sound venomous towards his parents, he was disheartened to find it hadn't worked, at all, he really needed to work on that. As for Tom, he was trying to figure out the best way to explain what happened, without giving away the fact that he knew that Harry was lying to him about not knowing how he got his scar. As for Harry liking his scar, well, he was going to have to try his best to hide his amusement about that.

"That's not how they died Harry. Would you like for me to tell you what really happened? We could go to Fortescue's and get an ice cream before getting your robes, it will be easier to tell you in a busier place to make it seem like I am merely explaining the story to a muggle born instead of anyone knowing who exactly you are." Tom was startled out of his ramblings - not that he'd ever admit to something as mundane as rambling - at hearing Harry's very enthusiastic response of "Ice Cream?! I've never had ice cream before. Well of course Dudley gets it a lot but Freaks don't get nice things. But that's okay, when we were at the Zoo Dudley fell into a python enclosure before the glass reappeared - he was stuck in there for ages. Dudley was stuck in there for ages, especially since everyone who worked with the snake was too busy trying to catch it to let Dudley out. The snake said something about going to Brazil before leaving anyway, and I hope he got there alright because they certainly didn't catch him in the Zoo, as they were still looking for him when we left. "

By this point in time Harry had - correctly - assumed that the Magical world would be able to trace who it was that committed a crime, or at least make him confess on trial, of which he would most likely be a member of the suspects due to his only having access to his relatives during the summertime. Due to this Harry decided to cut his losses and let everyone know how bad his home life was - a little bit at a time so as to not be too suspicious - he wasn't ashamed at what happened, a little embarrassed at letting it get this far but none the less willing to tell people what was done to him - all he knew was that for they had ever purposefully tried to land successive hits on him even with him dodging without showing any hint at stopping then he would have made sure to obliterate them, plan or no plan. The only thing he didn't suspect when he told Quirrel a little about his home life was how angry Tom would get.

Having grown up in an orphanage, Tom was used to being subjected to name calling, 'Freak' being one of the more popular used. As it is, hearing that Harry was not only subjected to this at all, but apparently by the people who were supposed to care for him, really made his blood boil - he knew that not everyone would care for blood kin instinctively, but the fact of the matter was this happened to Harry. Possessiveness has always been one of his main traits, but the thing is that Harry is his. His soulmate, and nobody touches what was his, so with this, he tried to keep his temper under control. "Harry what did you just call yourself?"

"What, Freak? Oh, today is the first day anyone's actually called me by my name - they only ever called me 'Freak' or 'Boy' so i'm just used to referring to myself as Harry in my head and not hearing it out loud, i guess it'll take a while to remember to refer to myself as Harry. I wasn't even allowed to go to school because they said it would take too much time away from my chores and that it would just be wasted on me, of course I constantly snuck out to the Library whenever I could, either when they left for work. When they went to sleep i'd read the books I checked out earlier to catch up for what i'd been missing, as well as not wanting to be an idiot like my cousin Dudley." Whilst what he was telling Professor Quirrel was true, he wanted to avoid mentioning that whenever no one else was home he would just use his magic to clean the house, leaving him plenty of time at the library - with an alarm charm set that would activate if someone steps foot inside the house, notifying him that he needed to 'pop' back into him cupboard. For that bit of information to be revealed Harry would have to make sure that he could trust the man, and for that to happen it would take a little bit of time.

By this point both Harry and Professor Quirrel had reached the Ice cream parlour and were currently seated looking at the options, with Tom being glad to see the waitress approaching the table as a means of forcing himself not to snap at the information he'd just received. Not being able to attend school, having to secretly educate himself, being called a freak and not allowed any sort of family or friendship bonds - he knew there were quite a few similarities between them, there couldn't not be with them being soulmates - but this, this was something no one else should have to go through, especially not Harry. Conclusion - he was very relieved about the interruption.

"Hi, i'm Linda. Are you ready to order yet or should I come back later?" His relief at the interruption was short lived once he actually heard her voice, then it was an all bets off situation at the high pitched, screeching, nails on a chalkboard tone she was emitting. If the grimace Harry had quickly covered up was anything to go by, then he was thinking roughly along the same lines. In fact, Harry's first thought was 'cut out her voice box and lets see if your still so chipper when you can't chirp.' Needless to say, they were very well matched for one another, because as one, they covered up their distaste with a polite smile each and tried not to choke her, and proceeded to order.

"I would like a plain Vanilla Ice cream in a bowl please - Harry do you know what you want?" This was where Harry started feeling uncomfortable, he had no idea what the hell what any of the flavors actually tasted like, and as such didn't know what to choose without worrying about if he will have to eat something he doesn't like the taste of. Deciding to just go the easy route and get what the Professor was getting, he said "Um mm, i'll just have the same as you please." Tom, seeing Harry looking decidedly uncomfortable - most likely at a loss as to what to order - didn't ask any more questions and merely accepted the silent plea to not mention anything. "Of course Harry - please make that two then Lydia." He looked up at the waitress with a polite smile practically plastered on his face at this point, with a matching tone of voice - a skill he'd learned to use correctly and whenever he wanted in his own Hogwarts days. He obviously hadn't forgotten anything if the waitress still had a smile on her face, no matter how much he dreamed to cut it off - tongue and all - to avoid having to listen to her voice.

"Two plain Vanilla Ice creams coming right up!" Breathing a sigh in relief at the removal of her presence, Harry and 'Professor Quirrel' turned back to face one another, where it didn't take long for the silence to be broken once more. Professor Quirrel begins hesitatingly, knowing that it can be difficult to talk about this sort of thing. "Harry? Would you mind talking a little bit about your home life? I know it's not something many can talk about but not only will it help with your dealing with it, it will also make it easier for you to talk to some other people that would help me remove you from their guardianship." He is cut off from his rambling by Harry giving off a small huff of laughter, seemingly amused at his hesitance towards the subject - leading him to raise an eyebrow as though to say 'well go on then.'

"Professor, I really don't mind talking about it, I know i shouldn't be treated like that, i just knew it would cause more problems if i tried to tell someone about it as my Uncle is close with the headmaster and some police officers, who have witnessed their treatment of me. The one thing I can assure you of was that they have never touched me, and the only times they tried to hit me I was able to duck out the way as their usage of a frying pan somewhat diminished their aim. They were too disgusted by the concept of touching me to actually try it, only Dudley and his gang beat me up, and that's more to do with bullying not abuse."

Whereas Harry may not seem affected by their treatment of him, Tom could easily tell that he was more affected than he let on and merely hides it both from the world and most likely himself. Why else would Harry condone being underfed - judging by his previous appearance it seems as though he had found a way to get himself food, but not enough for a growing child, as he obviously was unable to tell how much he was supposed to eat - as well as his cousins bullying not going punished. No matter what Harry may have to say on the subject, his home life has affected him more than he cares to acknowledge, as well as any of the other matters at home which Harry hasn't mentioned as of yet. Vengeance for the mistreated soul sitting in front of him will come as of yet, it just needs a plan - which - will his newly sane mind, will be perfectly executed. Although that may be, for now he will just let Harry get away with understating the effects of his home life, after all, prompting him to dwell on it more often may just get him to realise the extent of damage his relatives have done to his mental state. By this point their Ice creams had been set upon the table but Lydia has refrained from talking as they were in conversation at the time - saving them from her grating voice and letting Harry and Tom enjoy their Ice creams in peace.

"You really don't mind talking about it?" Tom made sure to make his face look disbelieving, which wasn't quite hard as he just had to remember how disbelieving he was of Harry's idea that his home life doesn't affect him, making sure that Harry wouldn't catch his slight lie. "Yes, of course I don't mind. It was not my fault that they hate me as I have never intentionally done anything wrong, meaning accidental magic doesn't count as an intentional wrongdoing to me, therefore I have done nothing to incite their wrath. However it is my fault that they starve me and lock me up in my cupboard/bedroom whenever they get sick of my presence." Whereas here Harry is talking about the fact that he could have used his powers to take an extreme amount of vengeance upon his relatives, many others would have taken it a much different way. Whilst Tom was getting rather spiteful at his relatives at this new piece of knowledge, he had a feeling that Harry was likely thinking of something else when making that comment. However he couldn't resist from his outburst just in case that wasn't the right idea.

"What they did to you was in no way your fault! There is no logical reasoning as to why you would be at fault for any of their actions towards your person. You are a child!" At Harry's indignant expression quickly hurried to add, "Yes while seemingly more mature than others your age you are still a child and as such matters like these should not have to fall into your hands to fix. No matter what you have done it could have ended up with worse consequences for yourself, especially if accidental magic is involved as that would most likely have made the punishment worse, i suspect." At this point in time Harry was beyond words, no one had ever cared about him enough to even blink an eye at his treatment, but here his Professor was, losing his cool over something as simple as Harry not having a nice life.

"Professor, it is partly my fault. I've managed to acquire food for myself without my relatives knowledge since I was seven, but i've never been able to tell when I was hungry, so it turned out I wasn't eating enough. How do you think I've not turned out to be emaciated? I had taken too long to learn how to look after myself and I would have paid a worse price had I not tried my best to catch up. Knowing and doing are two different things, and whilst i've always known that I wasn't supposed to grow up like that or that fast, it was necessary in my situation but I had never done anything about it until then. All that leads up to the fact that although no child should have to do that, I did have to but was slow about getting around to it."

Harry's speech left Professor Quirrel at a loss as to what to say - on one hand he could see where the child was coming from, whilst on another his reasoning that no child should go through a childhood similar to his own, and the fact that he was a large causing factor in Harry's life, only convinced him further that Harry should never have experienced that type of life. However, he knew well that Harry would be likely to deny any claims that he shouldn't have lived like that at all, so Quirrel simply let his answer be letting a frown appear on his face as his only form of disagreement before standing ready to go and leaving his payment on the table.

As they were nearing Madame Malkins - Tom - remembering his reasoning to go to the Ice cream parlour in the first place, quickly sidestepped into an alleyway before once again asking Harry if he could glamour his scar, or if he would prefer for his hair to cover it. When Harry had agreed to the glamour and Tom had performed the spell, they both stepped out and headed on to their original - and in Harry's case dreaded - stop, Madame Malkins. Stepping into the shop revealed the shop to be blessedly empty except for the woman sitting behind the counter, who was either the owner, or an employer.

As they had stepped into Madame Malkins a bell like charm had went off, alerting the witch behind the counter to their presence, if the alarming rate of her approach was anything to go by. Over the next half an hour Harry was sent to the backroom to put on clothes that were tight enough to measure him correctly, then shimmied up to a mini platform and measured in almost every possible place possible before being told to redress and come back in two hours for a hell of a lot of clothing which Professor Quirrel had insisted he get.

After that consisted of a whirlwind of shops, including the bookshop where Harry practically salivated over the amount of books available and proceeded to buy almost the entire bookshop before being warned of his funds by an amused Professor Quirrel. Secretly vowing to carry on buying books throughout their mail order service throughout his Hogwarts days - after all, it may have a giant library but he can't keep the books, whilst these ones he can. Next up was potions equipment and ingredients which Harry couldn't wait to try as he wanted to see if any of his cooking skills were transferable to potions.

Next they were heading out to get a very well equipped trunk with seven compartments with different parseltongue passwords - Harry didn't even think of making a password open, much to Tom's inner delight that this boy wouldn't even let another language stop him from lacking in complex security. However well Harry may learn, he's always known that anything is possible, so even though he can speak another language, he doesn't take a chance with his security. Although Tom had in fact heard Harry's passwords, he couldn't blame him for thinking that his 'Professor' couldn't hear him, as he was standing a fair distance away, the only problem was that the hissing tones are very distinctive to all parseltongue speakers, whereas any who don't understand would find it hard to hear the language in close range.

After finally going through all his other items on the shopping list - like a snake, who he would hide underneath his robes whilst Tom found it too amusing to even comment on the fact that he had just mentioned said fact in front of his Professor - before finally ending up at his last shop, Ollivanders. The reason he has chosen Ollivanders last was because his 'Professor' had said that it can take a long time to find his wand. Tom had chosen to remain outside of the building saying to Harry that Ollivander likes to creep people out and he'd prefer not to be in the man's company, which both amused and worried Harry.

Needless to say Professor Quirrel was right, after Ollivanders dramatic entrance, he proceeded to state the exact wands of his parents - which only succeeded in angering him and forcing himself not to show it. It was a secret to all but Harry that he didn't like his parents, nor being compared to them. They were dead, what did they matter? After that, Ollivander then freaked out about Harry's wand being the Brother wand to the Dark Lords, which harry personally found cool, after the wand had let out silver and gold sparkles when bonding with him.

Finally done with shopping, they then collected harry's robes from a hassled looking Madame Malkin - who had apparently just had to deal with some rude customers - before heading back to the Leaky Cauldron wherein Harry booked a room to spend in overnight. Their parting words were of instructing Harry of how to floo to kings cross station, as well as telling him how to get onto platform 9 and 3/4 if he would prefer to go the muggle way. Harry, deciding to end the night on a happy note, then decided to read through each of his school books well into the night, to make sure he would understand the basics of what the written work would be like, as each spell he came across was easy to do wandless without a seconds hesitation. All in all, a good end of a very busy day...


	5. Home is found at Hogwarts

Once Harry enters an empty cabin at Hogwarts express, he sets to putting up all the wandless magic he can think of to get people to avoid the compartment - just as he did on his cupboard at the Dursleys. This was always quite a handy tool for when he underestimated just how little his cousin knew and accidentally got better on a test than him. This always lead his Uncle to take out his displeasure with Harry's increasing quantity of chores and decreasing amount of food. The only reason he provided for the punishment was that he was a freak and cheated - which was an extremely stupid reason even to this day. Thankfully Harry could always make food appear, but it was best to let his Uncle believe he was suffering, leading Harry to have to not eat too much anyway. Knowing that eating normal portion sizes was going to make the Dursleys think he was either stealing food or eating a healthy amount (leading to them feeding him less), Harry had to keep eating a small amount of food to stay thin. Helpfully, he had never been fed properly (excepting him being with his parents), leading to him not having a normal appetite.

Harry had woken up early that morning to get a better chance at avoiding the people on the platform, meaning it was quite a relief for Harry to get to relax and read for the next seven hours - his only company being Aria - the snake he had bought from Diagon Alley. As the train started along its journey, Harry settled back and picked up his Defense against the dark arts book to re-read through the first year curriculum, even though he had read through them all the night before.

Half way through the journey Hadrian heard each consecutive cabin opening and causing a racket, but, after peering through the window and discovering it was just for a cart full of weird looking sweets, watched on impassively as the woman walked past - oblivious to the spells he had cast - before setting up silencing charms. Hadrian continued to read his books through the rest of the train ride in silence, with only Aria's hissing commentary every now and then to distract him.

Arriving at Hogsmeade station, Hadrian - already changed and with his belongings shrunk into his pocket and Aria around his waist - made his way through the crowds of people over to where a very large man was shouting out for the first years. Having no experience with swimming of any kind, Harry had to entrust his safety to the magic controlling the boats, meanwhile avoiding conversation with the other occupants of the boat - dismissing their angry remarks at being ignored before they turned and started talking between the three of them.

It wasn't long before a large castle came into view - imposing and welcoming in only a way Hogwarts could achieve - exuding that feeling of Home. As for Hadrian - having never had anywhere he felt at home - he decided then and there that Hogwarts could and would be the home that the Dursleys house never could nor would be. Having realised that he was oblivious to his surroundings, Hadrian's focus snapped back to the scene happening around him, where they were now being led into the 'great hall' by a stern faced looking older woman.

Looking around himself he could see a definite tension between the four tables - each having a different coloured symbol above their heads - most likely the different houses. Up in front of it all was the Head table, and - spotting Professor Quirrell - Hadrian gave him a small smile to which he receives an almost imperceptible smile back in return - before Professor Quirrell turned back to speaking with Professor Snape.

The sorting process seemed quite boring in retrospect, with a hat being placed on someone's head for an undetermined amount of time before it shout out the house they were meant to be placed in, it was - all in all, a rather tedious process. When it was finally his turn to be sorted, a sort of hushed stupor enveloped the crowd of jeering and shouting students - all with their eyes on him, because of what happened when he was a baby, pathetic. What should he care? It's not like he's ever developed any positive feelings towards his parents - hell, he never knew them, only what his Aunt and Uncle told him and none of that was exactly positive.

As the sorting hat was placed upon his head, Hadrian came to the realisation that he must be very small for the hat to cover his eyes completely - leaving him hoping for this 'event' to just be over and done with. Following that thought was a voice in his ear, telling him that though he might possess many different qualities and characteristics, the only house that would really suit him would have to be...

"SLYTHERIN" The sorting hat decided to shout obscenely loud, almost deafening Harry in the process. As the hat was finally lifted from his head by a suspiciously shaky hand, his eyes were met with a mix of outrage, confusion, vindictive glee and curiosity from differing house tables - only confirming his theory of a rivalry going on between two of the houses, whereas the other two were more indifferent towards the sorting than the red and green lot.

Sliding down the stool whilst trying to save his dignity, Hadrian walked over to the head table, meeting Professor Quirrell's eyes, whilst the man gave him an approving nod and a small smile. Once seated at the green houses' table, Harry was bombarded with an array of questions, to which he dutifully ignored every single person and decided to start eating without everyone else by making food appear on his plate. This, of course, shut the entire section of the table who had seen his magic trick right up, allowing him to eat in peace for the rest of the welcoming ceremony.

Falling onto the feather soft bed in his new room was like feeling heaven's embrace - if there was only one other thing Hadrian was happy with right now, it was that the Slytherins were so few each year, and the dungeons were so large, that everybody got their own room. Allowing Hadrian to strip free of the masks he wore upon his face without fearing of any company noticing. After all, can it truly be called a peaceful rest if one is constantly having to watch their own back to protect themselves?

Deciding his room could do with a little decorating - and, for the first time in his life actually being allowed to - Hadrian settled on a black ceiling with a glowing replica of the solar system over the black. As for the walls, Harry did them in a midnight blue colour - sticking to the nighttime theme he was creating. Along with that came the black sheets, silver/white pillows and a dark grey fluffy carpet. To top it all off there were cordovan dressers and a wardrobe.

Feeling the weight of the day settle upon his eyelids, Harry was quick to shower and change before settling into bed for the night, awaiting his first day of schooling on the morrow.

Waking up in the new room was odd - for, whilst Harry had never slept in a room very soundly, he had also never slept in a room quite this big before. As it was, the bed was soft and warm and comfy and it took quite a while before Harry could even contemplate getting up. Knowing how early he was normally waking up at, Harry decided to will his magic to tell him the time, like he had heard one of the older slytherins talking about wanting to know how to do. After managing the pathetically easy spell - and finding that it was only five - Harry started to wonder if there were any actually talented people at Hogwarts or if the advertising was all a sham.

An hour of rereading through the most important parts of his schoolbooks later and Harry gratefully rolled out of bed, aiming to shower, get dressed and head down to the great hall in the hopes to get his timetable early before heading off to the Library he had heard about. However, all he managed to do was fall onto the floor. After that - rather embarrassing - spectacle, Harry had managed to head off to the great hall in the hopes of getting his timetable early, however, that was not to be.

Being on the receiving end of an actual scolding from Professor Snape in the great hall is not a great way to start your day, as it turns out. No matter how many times he had repeated that he had merely wanted to try to find the Library and stay there and would rather not have to wait around for the first lesson to start, the man would not let up. So, retreating to the end of the Slytherin table and having a drink, Harry takes out his book and starts going over one of his more advanced defence against the dark arts books that he'd picked up from Diagon Alley, he settles in for waiting until the timetables had been handed out before going exploring. Alas, it was not to be.

Unfortunately for Harry, the blond/white haired Malfoy boy and his two fat thugs that looked a lot like Dudley decided to stand in front of the opposing side of the table he was sat at. As they were obviously awaiting a response, Harry decided to ignore them. Malfoy, having garnered that he was being purposefully ignored, loudly cleared his throat - and, without awaiting a response - began to start talking, LOUDLY.

Letting out a long-suffering sigh, and correctly implying that he was finding the twats presence annoying, Hadrian looked up, and settled in to stare Malfoy into submission - it usually worked.

"...and another thing POTTER, if you think that you're so high and mighty because you managed to trick the hat into sorting you into such a prestigious and respected house, you are mightily wrong. POTTER! Are you listening to me? I said-"

Having finally looked back at Harry instead of at the crowds of students and teachers alike staring at the spectacle, Malfoy's rant crumpled and he let out an undignified squeak at the lethal amount of rage and malice swimming in the glowing green eyes - eyes that were seemingly piercing holes in both his soul and his courage. Shirking the ranting and settling on his Slytherin sense of self preservation, as well as allowing the sudden dread and terror that was swimming in the depths of his entire being to rear up and grasp him by the hand, in a rather amusingly short period of time, the stuck up prat listened to his instincts and fled for his life, leaving only his two gormless and dimwitted handmaidens in his wake.

As the chatter started back up and the students returned seemingly to normal, Harry briefly looked up at the staff table to see a rather disconcerted Dumbledore, along with an almost gaping Professor Snape and an amused Professor Quirrell - each battling it out for Hadrian's favourite reaction to his glare yet. Although he may have only rarely had a chance to try it out, all the other instances where those who have displeased him and then received his glare, have all been mightily amusing.

One such instance was when he was ten - it was time for Dudley to go back to school and of course this meant that the whiny bugger was moaning about having to learn such hard subjects that were hurting his head (Mathematics, Science, English, basically everything more complicated than eating). Hadrian had left the house to go for a walk (okay, so his relatives may have pushed him outside and locked the door - same difference), meaning Harry had to fend for himself - as well as that, 'Dudders' and his wannabe gang were out 'patrolling the streets' at break time, leaving Hadrian to dread any such confrontation that may come his way. Of course, when have the fates ever smiled down upon him without a hitch first off?

The thing was, that no injuries ever actually occurred. Hadrian knew he couldn't get out of it, so he simply settled for glaring at them - but the strange thing was that they actually stopped. What Harry didn't know in that moment of time of course, was that his eyes were practically glowing with power. It wasn't until the group had passed - totally ignoring Harry, that he caught a look at himself in a car window, when his eyes were slowly starting to dim and Hadrian got the idea of using magic to make himself see better. As for him still wearing glasses - well, the lens is just clear glass, he didn't want to attract attention by not wearing them.

After the timetables were handed out it was almost time to go to class, so - seeing as he needed to know where his class was in the first place - Harry headed off for a small journey through the castle to search for the classroom he was going to for first lesson. The next lessons Hadrian had were after a break period, leaving Harry enough time to properly explore the castle after his first lesson, but for now, he had Defence.

The Defence classroom was very refined, if with a small hint of garlic that one could smell just slightly more than would be normal over the incense burning close to a window. Overall, the classroom was bigger than the Dursleys living room/kitchen, yet was decorated so as to actually look like the decorator had taste. Seeing as the decorator was none other than Professor Quirrel, Harry was very glad in his choice of mentor/friend thing (he wasn't really sure how much he could trust him yet).

The lesson went along the same route, with Harry being pleasantly surprised at the way Professor Quirrell managed to enrapture his students with what he was talking about whilst at the same time linking each idea to the topic they were studying. If that wasn't good enough, he taught everyone a spell that would copy down one persons words on a roll of parchment (only leaving out the part that would highlight the necessary points of information for them as well, seeing as Tom didn't want his students to not have to try at all, he just knew it could be tricky picking out the important points in a topic/lecture). Finishing up the lesson with a Bang ( a literal one, meant to scare the students and prompt them to always be aware of their surroundings, Tom dismissed the class, and got ready to head back to his quarters for an hour - until the next lesson started).

Harry on the other hand decided to explore the castle for a bit, heading up to the third floor corridor he kept hearing people talk about...


	6. The Fun has Just Begun

Fuck! Opening the door to a fairly random door with a first year charm, met Hadrian face to face with a Cerberus. Only his habit of reading everything interesting and actually keeping his wits about him let harry calm down the Cerberus - escaping without a scratch. After standing outside for a few minutes to collect himself, Hadrian decided to try something stupid - befriend the Cerberus. After all, how hard could it be?

Stepping back inside the room, Hadrian started to slowly walk towards the Cerberus, hand out with his palm flat. After about five minutes, the Cerberus finally allowed Hadrian to touch him, leaving Harry to start stroking him. All in all, not so bad. After all, who knows when you're gonna need an extra hand, and three heads has got to count for something.

Three minutes later with a very calm Cerberus on his hands, Hadrian began to look around the room, only to find it bare to the walls. However, once he looked down, he could see a small wooden trapdoor beneath the Cerberus' feet. Intrigued, he bent down to get a better look, only to hear a faint rumbling growl coming from the Cerberus. As it happened, he realised that the trap door was what the Cerberus must have been placed there for - to guard it, because why else would you have a potentially dangerous animal in the school where anyone could find it.

Deciding that he had spent long enough there, Hadrian began to retreat slowly out of the door, after saying goodbye to the Cerberus.

After making his way to the dormitory, Hadrian thought on what he had found. A trapdoor, being guarded by a Cerberus in the forbidden third floor corridor. The fact that the headmaster so blatantly stated that the corridor is forbidden to 'those who do not wish to die a most gruesome death' most likely means that he wants someone to go looking - but who? It couldn't be him could it? Well, knowing what he does about Dumbledore - which is unsurprisingly very little - he couldn't put it past him.

Deciding to investigate further at another time. Harry cast 'Lumos' and wedged his wand in his arm, whilst he took his potions textbook out and started reading through the section of potions ingredients and their uses, as a way for him to memorise them for the years to come. After reading for a while in the admittedly intriguing textbook, Harry decided that he should probably start looking around the library for a better selection of textbooks to read. This was mainly because of him already reading - and due to his eidetic memory - memorising the textbooks, leaving him hoping that the professors did not teach solely from the textbook, but only time would tell.

After casting 'Tempus' and finding out the time was nearing eleven o'clock, Hadrian decided that it was in his best interests to try and get to sleep now in the hope that he wouldn't be too tired for classes tomorrow morning. Casting 'Nox' to turn out the light on his wand, Harry settled his book onto the nightstand and buried himself under the covers, where before long he then drifted off to sleep.

The next two weeks passed by in little more than an incomprehensible blur - what with his lessons and never ending reading filling up his hours. Unfortunately for Hadrian and his Hyperthymesia memory, all of his lessons were just recitations of the textbook - only his potions lessons kept him interested and engaged - due to the practical side of the lessons. It was on the Monday of his third week at Hogwarts that Hadrian was given an idea that would finally help with the mass of boredom that he had been lugging around with him.

As it was, Monday found Harry waking up at a quarter past seven in the morning, leaving him with more than enough time to scour for new books to read from the library before heading to breakfast. Seeing as his first class was Potions at nine o'clock, who Harry could not comprehend any reason as to why the professor would so blatantly ignore him over the course of his lessons. Not one word would be listened to and the Professor seemed to even avoid looking at the space in the classroom that Hadrian was occupying - it was mystifying, as Hadrian had never done anything to wrong the man, and as such he didn't know how to correct the situation.

After showering and dutifully dressing in his uniform, Hadrian headed off to the Library - intent on procuring some new reading material. As such, after ten minutes of walking around the castle, Harry found himself inside the library, and proceeded to scour its depths for some new reading or research material - it didn't make a difference to him, it was a book, so he will read it.

It was half an hour before Hadrian was almost done looking for books, with a large multitude of books already weighing down his arms, he knew he wouldn't be able to carry many more. As it was, it wasn't very long before Harry had decided that the next book he picked up would be the last of his pile. Minutes later, Hadrian's eyes came to rest upon a small book - it looked like a storybook, if anything - and seeing how very small the number of stories he had found was, he decided to pick it up. The book turned out to be called The Tales of The Beetle and The Bard, and appeared to be magically themed, and so it was, that Hadrian added the book to his collection and proceeded to head down to the Librarian - Madam Pince - to get his load of books checked out.

Once Hadrian was informed of his having one month until the books needed to be brought back in, he headed off to the great hall to get himself some breakfast - books in tow under a lightweight charm in his satchel. As it was, just when he was rounding the corner to the entrance hall, Harry bumped - not quite so literally - into professor Quirrel, the only teacher ever seen using the main entrance.

"Hello Professor Quirrel"

Harry greeted the man, only to end up startling the man quite badly - seeing how he jumped on the spot and shrieked, only to twist around whilst still clutching at his heart, breathing uneven.

"Oh! I didn't see you there Hadrian, how are you? Enjoying your time at Hogwarts I hope?"

Tom didn't think he had even been quite as startled before as he was just then - he wasn't even aware of anyone approaching him. Most likely, it was the fact that Hadrian was his soulmate - meaning that his magic didn't recognise him as a threat, and as such did not 'alert' him to anyone approaching - deeming him safe. No matter what the cause, Tom resolved to keep his guard up, you never know who's going to betray you after all...

"Yes Sir, I do happen to be enjoying myself. The only thing I could ask for right now though is that the lessons would move on faster, for I have already read through all of the textbooks and cannot say that I am learning anything new in lessons at all. I have even moved up several years in reading material to keep the boredom at bay, as the lessons are so simple."

Thomas wasn't as startled as any other teacher might have been, due to the fact that he himself had found that the class material dulled rather quickly when one already knew and understood the material. Another factor was how often he could see Harry reading advanced books, meaning his higher than average intelligence was bound to be the conclusion to that.

"What about extra lessons? You could ask the teachers to give you extra or more advanced lessons if you feel that the subject course is too easy."

Hadrian contemplated that for a moment - as, surely it was a very good idea, with all of the extra time he has on his hands in the evenings - extra tutoring could be a very good idea.

"Actually sir, that is a very good idea. Oh, and, would you mind also - to tutor me? It's just - defence is one of the subjects that I find the most interesting, meaning that I ended up reading up on it far more than necessary. So if it okay with you - may I please have extra lessons?"

Thomas was actually more than amused at this point - it seems that Hadrian had finally adopted an emotion other than contempt - but Thomas knew that Hadrian was most likely just a little nervous - though morgana knows why.

Harry was, in fact, 'nervous'. Perhaps not for the reasons most would believe, but nervous nonetheless. The reasoning was that Hadrian has actually come to like professor Quirrel a little bit - an anomaly in itself - but he wasn't so sure as to what the professor would do with the sensitive information that he had been made aware about - such as the blockers and Hadrian's heritage.

"Of course I will tutor you Hadrian, you are - after all - my best student. I should be grateful to finally have a such an ambitious student, whose ability and determination to learn rivals my own. Of course, you would think that one would merely have to look to anyone in the house of the Snakes for an ambitious student - but alas, it is not to be. Ambition to rule the world is nowadays equated to an ambition to get enough money to buy a pet."

Thomas would never admit to anticipating the upcoming lessons - whenever they may be. No matter who Hadrian may in relation to him, Thomas would rather come to respect Hadrian because of his intelligence, his wit, his personality, and for himself, than become instantly enamoured with him due to what his soulmate mark dictated. As long as he is capable of feeling something for Hadrian because of who he is, and not what he is, then Thomas would proceed to see if Hadrian felt the same as him, and if not - he would leave. No matter what anybody may say, he will not be tied down to someone he feels nothing for. Soulmates didn't mean anything when it came down to it.

"Thank you so much sir! What day would be best for you? Perhaps on a weekend, or if not, a day of your choosing."

Admittedly, Thomas had not expected Hadrian to offer up his weekends, but they would be the best time for both theoretical and practical lessons.

"The weekend would most likely be the best time if we are to accomplish both theoretical and practical lessons into a certain timescale. Perhaps on a Saturday would be best, so that you may have the Sunday to revise, or as a day to be tutored on another subject."

Hadrian was grateful, and more than pleased for the easy acquiescence on his request, so Hadrian accepted the professors offer. After deciding that the time would be from three o'clock in the afternoon onward for their lessons, teacher and student entered the great hall before parting ways, intent on getting to their own table and grabbing a bite to eat before lesson time.

Professor Quirrel, once seated, mentioned the lessons to the headmaster, who seemed overjoyed at the mention of Hadrian's proficiency in the subject. Professor Quirrel then talked to each of the staff members in turn, intent on getting an answer as to whether they would be willing to tutor Hadrian if he should approach them.

As it turned out, the only one who ended up minding at all about tutoring Hadrian was Severus - but he too, in the end, had relented, bested by the knowledge that Harry's potions always turned out perfectly. Also, realising - at Tom's prompting - that he could milk the lessons for all that they were worth and get Hadrian to cut up extra ingredients to ensure he acquires a spectacular cutting technique, as well as brewing potions for the hospital wing for him, also saving him time.

After making sure that Hadrian would be in the best position possible when asking about extra tutoring - especially after explaining that Hadrian's rather Ravenclaw tendencies towards reading had to have imparted some knowledge within him, for him to be doing as well as he is at school. Tom then proceeded to leave the great hall, back to his classroom, where he would set up shop ready for his first class of the day - as well as checking up on his lesson plans in general, in case they needed any improvement.

Meanwhile, Hadrian was reading. It was not an unusual occurrence and it was fast becoming a regular sight around Hogwarts. Being invisible was something of a speciality of Hadrian's, as well as his much-preferred method of everything. However, it seems that the world has it out for him, if the foreboding feeling Hadrian kept getting was any indication, then his little bubble of peace was most certainly soon to be burst - and most unpleasantly. As for now, he will take what he can get, and only hope he collects his head fast enough to keep his temper in check when it all came crashing down around his ears.


	7. Encounters

As if the universe were taunting him, the serenity provided from everything being too new to provide good enough gossip barely lasted two weeks. It was just as Hadrian was walking through the corridors, on his way to defence, when he was brought out of his peaceful lifestyle quite harshly - by a vengeful redhead.

"Oi! Traitor, what do you think you're doing - walking' round like you own the place?" Hadrian turned around to inspect the source of the racket, raising an incredulous eyebrow in response to the redheads comment.

"Excuse me, but what are you referring to? What could I possibly be a traitor of, seeing as I have done nothing but study and attend lessons since I have arrived?" Hadrian knew the redhead was not intelligent enough to have figured out Hadrian's darker intentions, so he was curious about what the redhead was referring to.

"Well you're a slimy slytherin aren't you? You're a traitor to us all." A small chuckle escaped Hadrian's mouth before he could prevent it, leading the redhead to glare at him even more than before. "Are you so dim-witted and obtuse that you cannot come to the conclusion that an individual represents themselves and the house they are in, and not the other way around? Although considering the amount of intelligence you have previously displayed in class I must presume that this should have hardly been a surprise - though if you would like to I presume that you could take my overestimating your intelligence as a compliment, of sorts." Going by the blank look on the redheads face, it was taking a little while for Hadrian's words to be comprehended. Sighing in impatience and displeasure, Hadrian started to walk to defence - in the hopes that the Professor would excuse him if he were only a little late to class, before he was once again stopped by the redhead's shout.

"Hey! I haven't finished talkin' to you yet." Ah, the height of intelligence these days - can't even trust for a child to have received enough education to know how to talk properly - unbelievable. "Well I have to get to class, and would rather not be given detention from Professor Quirrel for being tardy - so I am going to get to my lesson before it starts and learn as I am supposed to. If you decide that you would rather hand around in corridors than get an education then be my guest, but DO NOT drag me into it. Now goodbye." With an impatient huff, Hadrian turned and speed walked down the hall, barely sitting down at his desk before the Professor strode out of his office and slammed the classroom door shut. Right. in. Ronald's. face.

The class promptly broke out into hysterics at the squashed pig impersonation Ronald was managing quite spectacularly. Nothing but a little quirk of the Professors lips gave away his amusement at the sight, showing nothing more than a cool and indifferent mask to the students - addressing them as thus. " Any student who cannot find it in them to value their education and turn up to class on time, or attempts to make another fellow student late to or miss their lesson entirely is to be punished. For one, they shall have detention with Filch FOR. A. MONTH. Secondly, they shall be required to do several 30 inch papers depending upon their amount of transgressions. If a student misses a class entirely they shall have to self study and write out every fact they should know in a 50 inch long essay. And finally, the student in question shall have to report to me with the essays and if I am displeased with even a single one of them, the student will have to write them all again. IS THAT UNDERSTOOD ?" Opening the door just enough to see the pathetic, whimpering mess nod his head. "You had better hop to it then, haven't you, seeing as you've an awful lot of essays to write." Getting the message, the wimp ran off as if the hounds of hell were on his heels - which, if the look on the Professors face was anything to go by, was not a hard assumption.

Closing the door much more domestically than before, Professor Quirrel appeared to visibly calm himself down before turning to face the rest of the class, whose faces were frozen in between a state of shock, amusement and fear. Then, simply brushing off the previous events, the Professor simply went to his desk and started writing o the board. "So, today we are learning about hindypunks..." And that's how the lesson continued - not one ounce of anger was visible for the rest of class, almost as if he had brushed it under the rug to be forgotten about. The students however, knew this was not to be the case - all swearing to never be late or miss a single one of Professor Quirrel's classes, not even if they were dying. Hadrian, however, was just glad to have made it into the class before the Professor's abrupt appearance - unaware that Tom had felt Hadrian's troubled emotions and knew someone was bothering him. Finding out it was the youngest Weasley boy was not shocking, but incited his rage nonetheless - leading to his impromptu performance for the class. Hadrian's sadistic amusement was the only reason he didn't move the argument outside of the classroom - taking pride in his mate's inclination t'ward violence, as well as further ensuring they would make a good pair together.

Nearing the end of the lesson, Professor Quirrel assigned the students a small piece of homework, which was to study up on the next chapter of the assigned book - before dismissing them, seemingly content to ignore the previous fiasco. However, just as class was ending, the Professor remarked, "Oh! And do be sure to let Mr. Weasley know of his latest assignment - I would hate to have to put him in detention for not doing his homework after all the effort he must be putting in to his work." Leaving the classroom with a sly smirk and a cheery wave, he was long gone before the students had even finished packing up their bags.

With a bemused smile, Hadrian left for his next class, internally questioning his favourite Professors sanity, but not really minding all that much - it was rather amusing to be honest. Heading towards transfiguration with an unusual lightness to his step, Hadrian wondered how long his good mood would last, and who would be the unlucky soul that inevitably brought it crashing down.

The rest of the day continued in much the same manner as any other day, with Harry being silent and unsociable and the rest of the students whispering about him behind his back. It was just after his last class, as he was heading to the library, when he was ambushed by a pair of grinning redheaded twins. Considering his previous encounter with a Weasley, Hadrian was understandably wary - but when they began to talk, in perfect synchronisation, mind - the worry was mostly eased from his mind.

"Well hello there Little Serpent - "

"- we're here to strike up a deal - "

" - with you, what do - "

" - you say?..."

Staring in silent contemplation at the two grinning twins before him, Hadrian listed out all of the reasons he either should or shouldn't believe them. Firstly, they wanted a deal, something which would most likely occur if they wanted a mutual relationship with him, meaning he would benefit as well. On the other hand, they weren't known as pranksters for nothing, so they could very easily attempt to find a way to humiliate or otherwise punish him for anything their brother may have said to them. What to do...

"Alright, I'll bite. What's this offer that you're proposing?" Hadrian was undeniably wary of accepting, but with the opportunities that could arrive by allying himself with them, Hadrian couldn't find the strength within himself to decline.

"Well, we just wanted - "

" - to see whether or not - "

" - you would want our help to - "

" - get revenge on our little brother - "

" - in exchange for teaching us a - "

" - few of those little wandless, - "

" - wordless magic tricks we've seen - "

" - you do around the school - "

" - when you think - "

" - no one is - "

" - paying - "

" - attention. "

Slightly shocked that they had noticed who was the cause of the small disruptions throughout the day, Hadrian had to admit to himself that he was slightly impressed. It took a strong wizard to notice when someone was casting non verbally and without a wand, especially in a grand hall full of people. As for the deal, Hadrian could see the potential for teaming up with the terror twins to gain his revenge, if their pranks on their little brother so far were any indication, then his revenge would be in good hands. After agreeing to the deal, Hadrian wondered what he had just gotten himself into, and if it would be worth it in the end. Only time would tell.

Making his way through the library, Hadrian started scouring for books to help him write out his transfiguration essay. Half way through his search, however, he came across Professor Quirrel skimming through the bookcases towards the restricted section, taking the next turn just far enough to catch sight of Harry. Whilst the 'slightly' manic professor did usually greet Hadrian when he came across him, he did NOT normally grab a hold of his arm. Slightly panicked, Hadrian looked around to see if anyone else was watching, turning around just in time to come face to face with the restricted section and an outstretched hand.

"This is a pass to the restricted section, if you lose it - find it. I will not give you another unless it was stolen." Speaking in a harsh whisper, professor Quirrel handed him a pass for the restricted section, before twirling around and strutting off. Feeling both bewildered and bemused, Hadrian watched his defence professor walk away, acting as though he hadn't just accosted a student to gift them with a gold mine of knowledge.

Deciding it was better to actually explore the restricted section instead of standing in front of it like a fool, Hadrian turned around and took a step forwards.

Returning to the dorms a few hours later, having decided to leave the books in the restricted section and just read them when he went in there, Hadrian collapsed onto his bed - mind swirling with the knowledge he had just amassed from the 'darker' books he had read. The most interesting book he had picked up was full of information on removing the trace from his wand, as well as a spell used to detect foreign compounds in his food - which would be useful to detect if his food was laced with a potion or poison of some sort. Hadrian resolved himself to casting it before eating any of his food, as well as testing whether or not it would work for his drinks as well, to ensure he is as safe as he could possibly be.

Slipping under the covers, Hadrian cast his gaze over his room. It was Halloween tomorrow, meaning a rather large feast would be ongoing. Having no wish to gorge himself on masses of sweets and pastries, Hadrian thought he would rather slip off to the library and continue reading some more of the books in the restricted section, or at the very least slip off to his dorm room and entertain himself there. What he would like to do, if possible, was explore the school a bit more - touring through the corridors to find any hidden or secret rooms, as well as any shortcuts that could prove useful at some point in the future. After all, what's the point in owning the place and never getting to know all of its secret passages, that would be far more than just a waste - it would be a tragedy, so taking the opportunity to explore the castle was more than wise in Hadrian's opinion.

With tomorrow's activities decided, Hadrian settled down and slipped into sleep, hoping the hours until the next day would last just a little longer so that he wouldn't have to face any potential backlash from the redheads temper tantrum and Professor Quirrel's response. Either way, it was pretty amusing.


	8. Halloween

Waking up in the morning proved difficult for Hadrian. Despite having always woken up significantly earlier than, well, everybody, the lack of sleep Hadrian endured throughout the week was only possible due to the way he – quite literally – slept his weekends away. Unfortunately, he wanted to finish reading through a few more books before his nightly quest throughout the castle, thus leaving the sleeping to Sunday. It was still kind of amazing that he owned the place, but considering how odd his life had been from the get-go, it was a no-brainer that this was going to be a similar case. What still confused him though, was the fact that his mother was apparently a pure blood, whilst everyone’s statements point to her being a muggleborn.

Saving that idea for later, Hadrian slipped out of the covers and crawled to the trunk at the end of his bed, finding it a waste of time and heat to actually get out of the damn thing, only to jump right back in – but by then the sheets would be cold – so no, he wasn’t getting out of bed. Either way, he was snuggled back in his covers in less than two minutes flat, a pile of books on his nightstand ready to be consumed by his almighty brain mass of intelligence – not that he was being vain or anything…Anyhow! With his books at the ready and his day free, Hadrian settled in to read, ‘patiently’ awaiting nightfall, when his quest could begin. Maybe he might even find some old abandoned room with furniture in it – who knew? It would be fun either way, so why not?  
Hours passed, and the sounds of his housemates making a ruckus slowly died down as they filed out of the common room, making their way out to explore the castle grounds and converse with friends. Oblivious as ever, Hadrian continued reading through his third book of the day, turning the page without missing a beat. Despite being capable of extraordinary deductions, once Hadrian is enveloped in his books – nothing can break him out of his trance – nothing. It was a habit he had formed after countless years of blocking out the external goings-on at the orphanage, ignoring the screams, shouts and ‘other’ noises made by his fellow housemates.

Nevertheless, when the time came for the Halloween feast, Hadrian had read all the books on his nightstand – having gotten showered, dressed and prepared to sneak around the Castle half an hour in advance, leaving nothing left for him to do but wait – impatiently. Very impatiently. Considering the fact that every teacher was supposed to be at the Halloween feast, Hadrian found that making his way through the Castle to be rather easy.

Coming just up ahead of him was a turning, though seeing as he was still in the Dungeons, there were rather a lot of those around. However, this time, upon turning the corner, he came upon a rather large, smelly, and god-awful looking mountain troll. Now the normal thing to do would be to scream and run, or freeze in petrified shock – right? But no, Hadrian, upon being confronted by a mountain roll, started gagging on the smell. Glaring at the troll for its part in his suffering. This was followed by some rather loud and frankly frightening sounds emanating from the Troll, causing Hadrian to – finally – realise what situation he had just walked, well bumped, into.

Backing up and away from the Troll, Hadrian considered his options. Option one – he could run and hide. Option two, he could stay here like an idiot and die. Option three, he could find a way to use this situation to his advantage, or at the very least make some form of entertainment. Deciding on option three, Hadrian continued backing away, correctly assuming that the Troll would follow him as he moved away. However, the danger presented by a club brandishing Troll was too much to risk, so Hadrian levitated the Troll’s club out of its hand, and trailed it away from the Troll – leaving it grabbing at air for a while, before realising it should probably follow its weapon. Heading through the hallways was easy compared to the task of luring the Troll upstairs without it tripping over its own feet and alerting the whole castle to its existence.

Upon walking by the girl’s bathroom, Hadrian heard a muffled crying sound, and figured he might as well check inside to see who was there – see if it was someone worth tormenting. Upon finding out that it was just a lowlife muggleborn, Hadrian’s face cracked into a devious smirk – a slight chuckle reverberating in the hallway before he could stop it. Thankfully, the girl heard nothing, leaving Hadrian the perfect opportunity for some fun, and led the club – and thus the Troll – into the girl’s bathroom.

Locking the door, Hadrian walked away with a smile on his face and a skip in his step. Leaving behind the sound of dying screams, and an unheard laugh, which had bubbled out of Tom as the screams started. Seeing his soulmate kill that easily was a gift, especially since it showed just how well they fit together. Watching Hadrian with a proud glint in his eye, ‘Professor Quirrel’ went to go crash the feast, informing them of a Troll loose in the Castle…

…

Whilst the Professor was dramatically informing the student body and teachers alike of the most recent development, Hadrian had made his way back to his room. Although he would have liked to explore for a bit longer, if the ruckus caused by buck toothed screams was anything to go by, it would not be long until the whole school was aware of the situation. As it was, it was better to head back to his rooms - and seeing as he hadn’t left them for the entire day anyway (or so they thought) – the students and teachers alike would merely assume he was having a lazy day, and had not even been aware of any commotion in the first place. In any case, it was probably best to either be asleep or reading something, to ensure that no one would even think of suspecting him.

Fortunately, Hadrian’s forethinking proved to be useful when, not five minutes after he had settled back into bed with a new book to read, a wave of noise entered the common room area one floor before Hadrian’s room – proving his prediction correct. It had been half an hour after the students had arrived when the chattering came to an abrupt halt. By the sound of Professor Snape calling out for all students to come to the common room, an announcement was to be made, and that means Hadrian had to get up. He was bringing his book though, just in case he decided to drag on the speech and bore Hadrian to death.

Entering the common room, Hadrian was met with the view of Professor Snape standing in front of all the students, a silent and imposing figure amongst the masses. It seemed that he was the last student to arrive, as the Professor immediately went into his speech about the danger of the Troll being removed, and the ‘unfortunate’ death of one Hermione Granger having occurred. As well as that, he announced that there would be a day of mourning tomorrow, as well as a feast in her honour – which was a little ridiculous to be honest, considering they had a feast at every meal anyway. The only difference would be whatever symbol of mourning they had conjured up, and most probably a speech to wrap up her very short time at school, and in life. All in all, very boring and unnecessary. The part Hadrian was more interested in was how they were going to break the news to her parents that she had been brutally murdered whilst under their care not even a full month into the school year. 

 

The next day, the students were continually being shushed and admonished for chattering about their theories on why Granger had been around the Troll in the first place. Some suggested that she had decided that she wanted to take down the Troll by herself, thinking that it might earn her some extra-credit points, whilst others hit closer to the truth by suggesting she was in a wrong place-wrong time scenario. One thing that Hadrian did notice that was more unusual than most, was the deathly pale shade that the youngest Weasley had gone, along with the unnatural silence that surrounded him on the Gryffindor table. Casually eavesdropping into a conversation by two Gryffindor girls closest to his place at the Slytherin table, Hadrian heard the rumour that Weasley had upset Granger after Charms class, causing her to lock herself in the girl’s bathroom all day. This was probably the truth, if Weasley’s state of being was anything to go by. 

Considering the fact that it was Sunday, and Hadrian had not been able to sleep all day yesterday – even though the majority of his roommates thought that was exactly what he’d done, Hadrian decided to go for a well earnt sleep. He was going to need it if the buzz going around the school was any indication. Monday was going to be absolute torture on his patience. Let’s just hope he manages to keep his temper. With a sleepy sigh, Hadrian raised himself from the Slytherin table, not noticing the eyes that had been staring at him through the entirety of the meal. Too tired to do much more than climb into bed, Hadrian fell asleep fully clothed, happy to just sleep the day away.

As for Tom, he sat – bored – at the head table in the great hall, watching his little soulmate stare bleary eyed at his fellow students, picking at his meal before giving up and going back to bed. Hadrian had similar habits to Tom himself. So he could understand Hadrian’s need to sleep the day away, even if not being able to see him was rather annoying. Either way, he still got to keep the memory of his Hadrian’s first kill, which more than made up for being deprived of his little ones presence.

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: I own absolutely nothing, I am just telling the tale the way I am interested in it going and am in no way trying to undermine any writers work, and to be honest I don't even realise it half the time when I accidentally quote from the book/film - it literally had to be pointed out to me!


End file.
